Drunk Last Night
by Her Madjesty
Summary: Modern NYC!AU. Killian and Emma had a rather memorable meeting.


_A/N Someone on Tumblr asked for a: "Hi, I got drunk and thought this was my friend's apartment—though I did wonder when she got two cats—so I broke in, and now I'm hungover and miserable at your place. How you doin'?" fic. I changed some things, but I hope you enjoy it! Consider this to be in the same universe as 'Popsicles', regarding how our lovely duo meets!_

* * *

"Another round!" The bartender cheered, lifting a glass into the air. The patrons roared, and sloppy laughter echoed throughout the room. Emma Swan sloshed her way to the bar and threw down her credit card, smiling widely as the bartender winked at her.

"Another Cardasian Sunrise for the pretty lady?" He asked, shaking a glass at her.

"Yes, please!" Emma begged, her eyes sparkling with mischief. A man at the end of the bar gave her an appraising look, but she ignored him, eyes fixed on the tender as he mixed her drink.

"Thank you." She simpered, taking the newly made glass. Then, she whirled, shimmying her way back into the crowd.

"Where's my favorite lady?" She crooned, collapsing into her seat. Next to her, a woman adorned in white and glitter giggled behind her bright pink drink.

"I haven't moved!" The woman laughed, lifting her drink in the air as a man sauntered past. "You promised me one hell of a bachelorette party, Emma, and you sure went through."

"It's because I love you." Emma said seriously, taking a long sip from her drink. "And you deserve the best. That's why you're marrying David Nolan, who makes _triple my salary a year_!"

"Amen!" The woman, Mary Margret, cheered, finishing off her drink.

The colors on the dance floor blurred together, and the room spun beneath her feet. Emma was up and dancing, laughing as a shirtless man sat Mary Margret in his lap.

The room pulsed, shimmered red, and the next thing Emma knew, she was out on the street.

XXX

"What?" She shook her head. The ground beneath her spun faster, and she moaned, sinking down to her knees. Emma groped for her purse, and found nothing.

"Dammit!" Kicking her impractical shoes off, Emma stumbled forward, brow creasing as she peered at the street names. Music thumped behind her skull and shook her balance.

"Okay." She whispered, taking a cautious step forward. "I think it's three blocks to home. Or maybe four. Come on. Let's go."

XXX

"Mary Margret?" Emma hammered her fist against her friend's door. "Mary Margret, let me in!" No response from inside. Emma groaned and held a hand to her temple. "Mary!" She shouted.

Silence. Emma sighed and pressed her forehead to the door.

"Don't make me do this." She threatened.

Five minutes passed, and without an answer, Emma made her way to the window.

XXX

Said window turned out to be surprisingly stubborn.

Emma had years of thieving experience under her belt—years!—and yet the latch to her bedroom window remained firmly shut. No amount of jimmying tripped the levers, and Emma didn't have any of her otherwise necessary equipment on her.

She cursed, slamming her fists against the glass.

Glazed eyes widened, after a minute. "That'll do." Emma murmured cheerfully, taking a step back.

There was a loud crash, and then, woman and glass tumbled to the floor. Emma stumbled to her feet, ever so tipsy, and glanced around the apartment.

"Success!" She shouted, brushing herself off. A small white creature bolted past her, and Emma looked downward, peering after it.

When had Mary Margret gotten a dog?

With a shrug, Emma tripped over to the bed, holding her head in her hands. "Mary?" She called, waiting for her friend to open the door.

Nobody came.

In the silence, Emma took inventory.

Her keys were long gone, lost somewhere on the dance floor of that ratty New York club. Not only that, but her cellphone was soaked through with water from the bathroom, and she was fairly certain that she had maxed out her newest credit card.

Emma was utterly, sopping drunk, and utterly, terribly screwed.

She collapsed onto the comforter—strange, it smelled weird—and curled up with a pillow, holding it to her face in a desperate attempt to keep the room from spinning.

A small 'woof', and the dog joined her in bed, curling up at her side.

She wasn't sure when she drifted off, but one hand was on the dog, stroking circles into its fur.

She'd always wanted a dog.

XXX

"Sorry to wake you, gorgeous, but who are you?"

Light filtered into the bedroom through the broken window. Emma blinked upward, wiping drool off the corner of her mouth. A man stood in front of her, a crooked grin on his face as he casually toed the glass on the floor.

"Wha?" Emma looked around, taking in her surroundings.

It wasn't Mary Margret's apartment. Even as the walls spun, good and slowly, Emma could tell that.

"Oh, God." She moaned, throwing her head back down on the pillow she had commandeered. "I am so, so sorry."

"It's alright, it's alright." The man said soothingly, sitting down on the bed. "Just tell me who you are, and possibly how all this happened."

"I don't even know." Emma moaned. "I threw a bachelorette party, and then I was in the street, and I thought this was my friend's place—although she doesn't have a dog. I thought she might have adopted one, or that her fiancé had brought his—ugh, I'm so sorry!"

"It's okay!" The man laughed, awkwardly patting Emma's calf. "But what's your name, love?"

"Emma." The woman said, peering upward. "Emma Swan. Can—can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure, love." The man said reassuringly. "Do you need help getting up?"

"Yes." Emma whimpered, holding her pillow close. "Please?"

XXX

The duo stumbled to the bathroom, wherein Emma spent ten minutes retching into the stranger's toilet. He held her hair back, and then ran to the kitchen to get her a drink of water.

Emma stared into the swirling waters of the toilet and cursed.

"Here you go." The man had returned, and set a cup of water and a pill bottle on the counter. "I'm going to leave you alone for a bit, yeah? I'm sure you can manage cleaning yourself up on your own."

"I hope." Emma snorted, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. "But hold on a second. Why are you being so nice to me? I broke into your house, smashed your window, and took over your bed."

The man laughed shortly. "Well, I don't mind coming home to find a beautiful woman in my bed." He said, offering her a sly look. "But I've had my fair share of rough nights. So I can't blame you, not really."

"Of course," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I will ask you to pay for my window to be repaired."

"Absolutely." Emma nodded, stopping once the room started to spin once again.

"But otherwise." The man continued, unperturbed. "I can't say I'm really complaining."

Emma snorted, but smiled, and slowly brought herself to her feet.

"Thank you." She said, hesitantly.

The man smiled, and offered her his hand. "Killian Jones," he said, grinning like a fiend. "At your service."

* * *

_A/N Borrowed the Cardasian Sunrise from Star Trek: 2009. :D _


End file.
